


the stars lean down to kiss you

by musicmint



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, Coming Out, Endgame Clarke Griffin/Lexa, F/F, Flashbacks, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-05 11:02:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6702145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmint/pseuds/musicmint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Clarke and Lexa were best friends turned lovers but Lexa left. Seven years later they have a second chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the stars lean down to kiss you

“I had a good time tonight,” Clarke says as the car slows to a stop in front of her apartment complex on a Saturday night. 

“I’m glad,” he replies, hesitant, not sure if he should say anything more. The night went well, or as good as it gets with Clarke. After a few dates he’s figured that she always seems closed off and he doesn’t want to seem too forward.

As Clarke begins to open the car door and exit, he does the same hoping to walk her to the entrance. “It’s alright,” Clarke says, “I can manage myself. Thanks though.” It’s brief, and casual, and he expected no less, didn’t even know why he tried. He nods and shuts his door. 

“Goodnight, Clarke,” is all he says trying not to sound too disappointed.

Clarke waves goodbye and shuts the car door. She begins to walk towards the entrance and wonders why he doesn’t drive away yet. She turns around and waves again, even smiles a little. He sees it and gets the message.

As he drives off away into the night, Clarke sighs a sigh of relief. It’s not even that late yet she feels exhausted. She just wants to get into bed and do nothing for the rest of the night. So when she reaches her apartment she lazily kicks her heels off not even caring to put them away neatly with the rest of her shoes. She drops her purse and rids her coat onto her grey sofa in the living room.

She plops onto her bed, starfish style, and wonders when she turned into someone whose ideal Saturday night is dinner and bedtime before 9pm. It never used to be like this, she thinks. Clarke is 25, an age which most people would describe as the ideal age to really be yourself. Her best friends from college, Octavia and Raven, are probably going out tonight somewhere in the city. Sure she had just went on a date with the latest eligible bachelor who had shown interest in her. But Clarke somehow always manages to only tolerate a few dates with each guy she goes out with. And every time, she breaks it off with them using the same old excuses. “It’s just not working out,” or “I tried, but I’m not really feeling it,” she would tell them. It’s not their fault really, it never is.

And Octavia and Raven would call her out on it too. “Why even date them when you know you’re not going to be interested?” they’d ask. And to that, Clarke would just shrug it off. She would either reply time and time again, “Well who knows? Maybe I’ll meet the right one.” Or simply just keep silent since she really doesn’t know why. (or maybe she’s always known why).

She’s tired of it too. The same routine over and over. It’s been years. In her sophomore year of college, she did find someone. His name was Finn. He had long dark hair and a rugged smile. The twinkle in his eyes when Clarke talked about her art made her feel special, almost as if he could be the one to mend her heart. She had met him through Octavia’s brother Bellamy at a party that he was throwing to herald the new school year. Finn was one year older than Clarke and seemed charming enough. When she was about to trip and fall from someone’s sleeping body on the floor because she was intoxicated, Finn was there to catch her. He took care of her that first night they met. He really grew to love her in that one year they were together. But Clarke never loved him. She thought she could, that’s why she tried with him. She never intended to hurt him. But when things got serious and he wanted her to move in with him her Junior year of college, she couldn’t.

Finn didn’t want to pressure her and that was that. They ended. On good terms? She wouldn’t say so. It didn’t really make sense to him why she didn’t want to move in with him, but Clarke also didn’t really seem to care if her understood. And when he questioned if their relationship meant anything to her, she would only say “of course” and end it at that. It was her indifference that brought them to an end, really. But she thought at least they didn’t hate each other. She wouldn’t say she would call him up just to catch up, though. She never does that with anyone, as a matter of fact. It just isn’t her character.

Since then, there hasn’t been a significant other that made an impact on Clarke. Most of the time she feels lonely, but she doesn’t admit it. She goes out once in a while with Octavia and Raven, and makes sure to take enough photos on said rare nights out just so she could upload them on her Instagram to show the world her weekend night escapades. Clarke wants to think it’s so other people, whether it be her college friends or colleagues, hell even her mom, don’t think she doesn’t have a social life. But really, it’s all to convince herself she isn’t lonely, that she has friends, and that she’s always having a good time.

But despite the hundreds of likes and the occasional “looking great boo xx” comments on the photos, Clarke’s life is pretty empty. The people that comment on her posts don’t even _know_ her. When was the last time she’s even seen them? She doesn’t remember, honestly. And the numerous men she dates are only a past time for her that occupy 3 hours of her weekends. Sometimes she lets them stay the night.

Clarke wants to think about the last time she really enjoyed time spend with her friends. Other than nights in with Raven and Octavia, she genuinely cannot recall the last time she laughed not because she forced herself to. And she wonders why that is. Her life should be pretty great. After she graduated she found a job as a photographer. She does shoots for magazines, and occasionally does freelance shoots for weddings or just anyone wanting a photo shoot in general. It earns her enough to pay the bills and enjoy a simple life. Her relationship with her mother is as great as it _can_ be, with her mother living across the country back home in DC while Clarke is in LA. Although her father died a few years ago, Clarke never talks about it. She cried once when she found out, but never since. Perhaps it’s because she’s not with her mom, but even when they are together, they don’t talk about Jake. And just like that, Clarke has pushed her memories with her father deep down where she can’t reach them even if she wants to. It’s easier this way, she thinks. Because not feeling anything is easier than feeling something and crying about it.

She decides to call Octavia, wondering if she really is out tonight, because if she isn’t, Clarke would love her company right now. Anything to save herself from her wandering thoughts about her life that are getting a bit depressing. She pulls out her phone from her jean pocket and taps her number from her favourites list.

“Hey girlie,” Octavia answers. It sounds loud where she is. Clarke can barely hear her.

“Hey O.” Clarke says, a little disappointed.

“What’s wrong?” Octavia asks. “Date didn’t go so well?” Clarke groans at the mention of the date, which draws a laugh from Octavia, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I didn’t call to talk about that,” she doesn’t want to bother her friend from her night out and clearly that’s what she’s doing. “It’s nothing, have fun,” she says after a pause.

“Wait Clarke--” Clarke ends the call and Octavia decides she won’t call her back just yet. She’ll talk when she’s ready, Octavia thinks.

Clarke groans again, louder this time but muffled by the pillow she’s buried her face into. She gets like this at times, frustrated. She thinks about calling Raven, but assumes that Raven is out with Octavia too, or maybe she’s out doing something else, and the last thing Clarke wants to do is bother her friends even if she is feeling a bit lonely (a lot lonely).

So Clarke decides she’ll take a bath and call it a night. She makes her way to the bathroom and undresses while the tub fills up and smells of flowers from some random bath bomb she threw in. As she stares herself in the mirror, she sees the permanent mark on her body that does not fail to remind her of the only person that once was her whole world. Most days she dismisses the thoughts that are brought about by the star tattoo under her right breast. But tonight she feels lonely and vulnerable and lets herself succumb to thoughts she hasn’t visited in a while.

Long brown hair and beautiful green eyes (they seem to change colour so often that Clarke almost can’t remember, it’s been so long). But she can never forget her warm smile, and the way it never seems to reach her eyes except when Clarke is there.

 _Lexa_.

God she hasn’t thought about her in forever. She always manages to bury the thoughts away once they seem to creep up on her. In a way it’s her defense mechanism to prevent herself from the wave of emotions that almost always come right after.

But tonight Clarke allows herself to feel and to ache. She’s missed the feeling of _feeling_ something. She climbs into the bathtub and just lets herself sink, head completely under water. It’s too hot for her, since her body hasn’t adjusted to the temperature, yet she’s surprised how much she enjoys the feeling of being submerged like this. She doesn’t come up until her body is yelling at her for air.

Somehow that allowed her to truly feel something in a long time. The thought terrifies her, but also comforts her in twisted way. Because it gives her an answer to why she always feels so alone. (She’s always known the answer).

Clarke has never felt whole since Lexa left.

And it’s been _years_ since Clarke last spoke with her, even longer since she’s last seen her. But she remembers all the little things and suddenly Clarke begins to cry. She doesn’t realize she is though. 

She remembers Friday sleepovers and summers by the pool. She remembers road trips with both their families and blasting old school Taylor Swift on the speakers, singing at the top of their lungs. She remembers holding the brunette to sleep after she cried for hours when her dog died.

It was always the two of them. Clarke and Lexa, Lexa and Clarke. They met when they were eight when Clarke moved to town. At ten years old they made a pact to open a chocolate factory somewhere in Switzerland and eventually settle down somewhere, grow old together, houses side by side.

But those promises are long gone, perhaps forgotten by Lexa. Clarke will always remember them.

She’s been in the water too long now, her skin shriveling and the water getting cold. Clarke doesn’t realize how long she’s been crying in the water. She’s too unmotivated to get out but she hears her phone ring and thinks she probably should get that. She quickly wraps a towel around her body and walks into her bedroom to grab her phone from her bed.

_Missed Call: **O**_

She also sees two texts from her.

_**O** : don’t know if you fell asleep since you didn’t answer_

_**O** : I’ll come by tmr k?_

Clarke feels grateful to have a friend like Octavia. Somehow she always knows what she needs, and isn’t too pushy either. She starts to type her reply.

_**Clarke** : was taking a bath. come tmr at noon? we’ll make some food and chill_

It only takes a few minutes for Octavia to respond back.

_**O** : sure. see you tmr x_

But she knows that it will be anything but just a casual afternoon in. Not after crying in her bathtub like her heart has just been broken for the fifth time. She knows she wants to talk about it with someone but sometimes she doesn’t know how to. And that’s when it eats away at her. Both Octavia and Raven are Clarke’s closest friends yet both of them know little about Clarke’s life before college. Since Octavia only met Clarke during college she only knows the parts of her life before college that Clarke openly shares, which isn’t much. And although Raven went to Clarke’s high school they were never more than acquaintances, becoming friends only when they met again at their college’s orientation.

She sometimes wonders how life would have been if she and Raven had been best friends in school. _Much more wild_ , she thinks. But Clarke had Lexa then, and she wouldn’t trade that for the world.

She puts on her an old t-shirt and sweats and digs through her drawers to find an old photo album of her and Lexa. She finds it beneath a pile of paperwork that she decides should be thrown away. Clarke smiles at the cover which reads “me and my bestie” above a photo of the two of them eating ice cream cones during summer holiday when they were nine.

Clarke climbs into bed with the album and flips through, she smiles but it’s bittersweet. She even laughs at some of the photos. There are a few with Clarke pulling Lexa’s hair and Lexa has the most annoyed face ever. And then there are ones where they make ridiculous silly faces at the camera (before selfies were even a thing). But then she’s at the end of the album and in the photo they’re in their graduation gowns and they look _so happy_ , and that’s when Clarke wonders for the billionth time where it all went wrong.

“We were supposed to be happy,” Clarke says softly and touches Lexa’s face in the photo with her fingers.

The tears are coming but she doesn’t want to cry again, tries so hard to hold them in. She thinks it’ll be better if she just sleeps all the emotions away. They’ll still be there when she wakes up and she knows it. Every time the cycle begins it takes her at least three days not to cry herself to sleep. She’s never let anyone see her like this. Not her mom, not Raven or Octavia. 

So she falls asleep with the lights still on, photo album still open beside her, the girl that was once her entire world on her mind.

 

\--

 

It probably isn’t even 9am yet when she hears the sound of someone walking in her apartment. Clarke was never a deep sleeper. She should be panicking, but remembers that Raven has a key to her place and it’s most likely just her.

Any panic related thoughts are wiped away when she hears Raven’s voice.

“Princess it’s time to wakey wakey,” she says.

Clarke hasn’t even opened her eyes yet and in her half-awakened state wonders why she ever gave Raven a spare set of keys to her home.

“What time is it?” Clarke manages to mutter.

“Time for you to get your ass out of bed.” 

Clarke groans and tries to throw a pillow at the darker skinned girl and totally misses. “Who wakes up so early on a Sunday?”

“Uh, normal people.”

“That’s so not me.”

“I know, but it can be,” Raven teases.

By now Clarke is awake, not awake enough to open her eyes but she knows Raven won’t let her continue sleeping. When she finally gets up she sees the time that reads 11:45 AM.

“What the hell? I swear it can’t be past nine right now.”

Raven laughs at the distraught Clarke. “Why are your lights already on?” She’s always been keen on noticing things out of place.

“I fell asleep last night,” Clarke answers as if that explains anything.

Raven is about to say something when she notices the photo album next to Clarke. She takes note of it and keeps quiet. She’s seen it before a few times and knows it’s photos of only Clarke and Lexa. She knows who Lexa is, from school, but Clarke never really spoke about her and Raven has never been one to pry. She respects that some things are just better off left in the past and not mentioned.

Clarke’s eyes are droopy but before she closes them again she remembers that Octavia is coming over at noon. “Shit.” She hurries out of bed and rushes into the bathroom.

As if reading her mind, Raven assures her everything is fine. “Don’t worry Griff, O’s picking up some lunch so she won’t be here for a while. Take your time.”

And at that Clarke relaxes. She suddenly remembers the events of last night, the crying, the reminiscing. She can’t be sucked back into reliving everything when one friend is just outside and another is on her way. She doesn’t have time to mellow. She tries her best to push the thoughts of Lexa away and makes herself presentable.

When she walks back into her bedroom Raven is about to pick up the photo album of her and Lexa. “Hey! Don’t touch that,” Clarke demands a bit too loud that it startles Raven. She didn’t mean for it to come out that way, really, and it shows on her face after. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Raven says as she backs away from the bed. There’s a silence and neither really know what to say until Raven finally asks, “you okay?”

Clarke doesn’t respond immediately, her back facing the other girl.

The doorbell interrupts them. “That must be O,” Clarke says avoiding Raven’s eye contact. She walks over to open the door, Raven doesn’t know if she should follow or remain in the bedroom. She decides to follow since Clarke apparently doesn’t want anyone near the photo album in her room.

“Food is here!” Octavia greets a little too enthusiastic for what just happened. Of course Clarke wants to act normal and puts on her brightest smile.

“Hey!” She tries to match her enthusiasm, “Ray’s here too.”

“I know. She called this morning and I told her to come keep you company with me.” Octavia genuinely smiles and Clarke truly is thankful that she has people like her in her life.

She shoots Raven a look of thanks and Raven gives an understanding smile. She turns back to Octavia and sees the multiple bags of Chinese takeout, “I thought we were cooking today.”

“We were, until your lazy ass didn’t get up ‘til 20 minutes ago.” Clarke is about to refute that statement but before she gets the chance Octavia jokingly says, “don’t even try to deny it.”

They each help Octavia carry a bag towards the kitchen counter. As they unravel the bags of food they each take some and bring it into the living room. Raven turns on the TV and the three of them make themselves comfortable on the grey sofa that Clarke’s coat from last night is still on. 

They’re watching the food channel and Raven’s commenting aimlessly on the extravagant food while Clarke tunes it out and begins thinking about last night even though she’s trying not to. Octavia notices Clarke just poking at her food.

“Not hungry?” she asks and Clarke is still lost in her thoughts until she feels a nudge.

“What?” she finally responds.

“You’ve been weird since last night when you called. Are you okay?” Octavia asks and Raven turns her attention from the TV to her friends. She wants to mention the photo album she saw on Clarke’s bed earlier but doesn’t want to share something Clarke isn’t comfortable sharing yet.

“I’m fine.” Clarke doesn’t elaborate any more. She looks down at her food. On a normal day she’d finish this in minutes flat and Octavia knows that. But today she’s just not in the mood.

“Did something go wrong last night with… who was it? David? Or was it Devon?” Raven asks with a joking tone.

“No. He was fine.”

“Did something happen, Clarke? You’re being really quiet and the last time you’ve been like this was when…” Clarke looks up suddenly knowing what Octavia is about to say. She doesn’t like to talk about her dad.

“I’m fine.” She says more adamant this time.

“You’re not.”

“I’m fine.” And this time it’s not to convince her friends, it’s to convince herself. “I’m fine. I’m fine,” she mumbles quietly.

Raven and Octavia look at each other, concern in their eyes. The Clarke Griffin they know is upbeat and lively and never acts like this (almost never). They move closer to Clarke and both hug her instinctively.

They don’t say anything but it’s not awkward. They stay still for what feels like a few minutes. Octavia is the first to break the silence. “Hey, you know if you ever need to talk about something, we’re here.”

“Yeah, both of us. Whenever.” Raven assures.

Clarke nods. “I know.” She wants to tell them she just doesn’t know where to start. If she starts, she doesn’t know if she can stop because she feels like that was her whole life. It’ll be like opening a world of secrets she’s kept hidden for so many years.

She sighs. She doesn’t feel like eating anymore. “Let’s do something fun.” She tries her best to smile.

“Okay, princess.”

 

\--

 

_“Lex, stop moving!” Clarke tells the girl who’s fidgeting endlessly in her seat._

_“How bout_ you _try sitting still for two hours doing nothing.” Lexa crosses her arms and furrows her brows, trying to sound angry._

_Clarke knows Lexa isn’t really angry though. “I promise it’ll look great when I’m done.” She says with a smile. She goes back to drawing on her sketchpad. She’s concentrated and although Lexa doesn’t admit it, she loves seeing Clarke in her element. The way Clarke bites her bottom lip when she just can’t seem to sketch it right and uses her finger to smudge it instead._

_“I don’t understand why you can’t just sketch a photo of someone. Why do I have to sacrifice my time sitting here and why does it have to be me?”_

_“Shhhhh, I’m almost done. Sketching live objects is totally different from photos. Plus nobody’s home to sit here for me to draw.” Clarke continues working on her sketchpad. She really actually just wants to draw Lexa._

_“Isn’t that what fruit bowls are for?”_

_“I’ve mastered that already,” Clarke says and Lexa rolls her eyes. She looks up at Lexa and smiles. “There. All done.”_

_“Let me see!” Lexa demands excitedly and almost snatches the sketchpad away from Clarke._

_“Nope.” Clarke pulls back and doesn’t show her. “I thought you didn’t want to be sketched,” she teases._

_“Come on, Clarke. I sat here for two hours the least you can do is show me.” She pouts and meets Clarke’s eyes. They’re so blue, she thinks to herself._

_“I’ll show you another time. Promise.” Clarke gets up and puts the sketchpad in her drawer._

_Lexa groans and Clarke laughs. She knows there’s no arguing when Clarke makes up her mind. Clarke walks back towards Lexa, who is still sitting on the blonde’s bed, and pulls on both her hands to get her on her feet. “How about I get you an ice cream sandwich as a thank you?” Clarke suggests. The brunette gets up and feels that her butt is actually quite numb from sitting for a few hours. But then Clarke smiles at her and she thinks it’s all worth it._

_“_ You _just want one for yourself.” Lexa argues playfully and lets herself be pulled downstairs anyway._

_Clarke grins because Lexa is right._

\--

 

It’s Monday night and Lexa is still in her office trying to meet her deadline. She’s on her fourth cup of coffee tonight already. Good thing you can’t overdose on caffeine, she thinks. She’s been on overdrive for the past two weeks. She’s working overtime every night and she’s overwhelmed with her upcoming move across the country.

Lexa doesn’t think LA is suited for her. She’s been doing so well in New York, but then the company springs something like this on her and suddenly on top of meetings and deadlines she has to look for a new place to live and coordinate shipping all her stuff. She could just sell everything, she’s considered.

Lexa thinks about the life she’s made here and her friends, friends she’s had since college. She doesn’t want to leave. But she can’t just decline. Maybe a change of scenery will be good for her? Nah, she thinks.

She’s going through some paperwork when there’s a knock on her office door. It’s Lincoln. “Come in!” She yells without looking up.

“I got you some food. I figured you haven’t eaten yet.” He drops the bag on her table scattered with papers and folders, photos and prints.

Lexa looks up at the clock. 10:30 PM. Her eyes widen. She hasn’t stayed at the office this late since several projects ago. And the smell of food triggers her hunger that she wasn’t even aware of. Her stomach growls; she’s embarrassed and Lincoln laughs. 

“Do you want me to drive you back later? I can just wait around ‘til you’re done,” he offers.

Lexa shakes her head. “No I think I’m going to be a while. I’ll just call a cab or something.” She reaches for the bag of takeout now as she realizes how hungry she’s been.

“Are you sure? I can wait,” he insists, fingers scratching the back of his head. He’s nervous.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she says avoiding eye contact.

“Okay,” is all he says. He stands there in the office unsure if he should just stay or leave. Lexa goes back to reading something as she eats, clearly not wanting his company. “I guess I’ll just go then. Don’t be too late.”

“Okay,” she finally looks up at him. “Thanks Linc. For the food.”

“No worries.” He says nothing else and is out the door.

Lexa sighs. Lincoln has always been a great friend, one of her closest. They met in their sophomore year of college and then when they graduated they entered the company together. He’s always been there for her and Lexa treats him as his older brother.

But then he went and screwed it up by confessing to her, out of the blue, the last thing Lexa ever expected. And while before they were always best buddies and just comfortable around each other, now Lexa is careful with everything she says and does around him. 

When he told her, she didn’t know how to respond. He showed up one night around eleven. Lexa was ready for bed when her doorbell rang. She opened the door and there he was, standing with a chocolate cake that he baked. “I know how much you love chocolate,” he began. She doesn’t remember the rest of his long speech because the moment “I like you” came from his mouth she couldn’t focus on the rest. It went something along the lines of him always having had a special spot for her and having waited for her to reciprocate some kind of feelings for him too. He thought when she hasn’t ever had a boyfriend for as long as she’s known him that he had a chance.

Lexa just stood there and stared at him wide-eyed and awkwardly blurted out, “thank you.” Very smooth, she thought. Then she took the cake and closed the door. She didn’t sleep that night.

The next day, she texted him.

_**Lexa** : I need some time to think about it. Sorry for being awkward, I really wasn’t expecting it._

Lexa had never told anyone that she’s gay. That’s the reason she never had a boyfriend all the years Lincoln has known her. She didn’t see the point when she was never going to seriously involve herself with anyone (because she had someone already).

But ever since, Lincoln shows up all the time and brings her food and offers her rides home. He’s really a great guy and she wishes he wasn’t because if he wasn’t then she could give him some stupid excuse to why she can’t be with him; instead, she has to tell him the truth somehow. Now she’s just waiting for the right moment.

Great, another thing to add to the list of never ending things to do, she thinks. 

Lexa works a little longer and calls it a night. She can’t deal with so many things at once. She calls a cab and gathers her belongings to head home.

When she reaches her old rustic New York loft, she doesn’t bother turning on the light. She’s exhausted, physically and emotionally, and all she wants is to crawl into bed and sleep. She lies on the bed before she’s even taken off her coat, thinking she can get a moment of silence and peace before getting ready for bed.

Her phone suddenly chimes and she startles from her almost sleep state. It’s Lincoln again. She reads the message.

_**Linc** : You home?_

Lexa is too tired to respond but knows that if she doesn’t he’ll end up calling her anyway. She’s typing her response when she receives a longer text from him.

_**Linc** : Sorry about earlier, I shouldn’t have been too pushy._

Lexa feels guilty. She didn’t mean to come off so cold earlier. It’s not like her to act like that. And Lincoln feeling like he has to apologize for that makes her even guiltier and she wants to just tell him that it’s not him she’s uninterested in, it’s any man. But it’s not even just that, it’s that her heart has always belonged to someone else. Even if she was into men at all, she could never love anyone again, not like she loved _her_.

The thought of Clarke actually comforts her. Through all the stress in her life, somehow just thinking of Clarke gets her through it. Although she hasn’t seen her in over seven years, she remembers her in exquisite detail. But the thought of Clarke always comes the feeling of regret as well. Because of what she did to her, to _them_. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever get the chance to explain things and make it right.

Lexa quickly replies Lincoln’s text so he doesn’t worry and opts not to say anything more, for now. She gets up and reaches for a box under her bed. She takes the lid off and smiles at the sight of the numerous drawings Clarke has given her. Among them are sketches of random things that reminded her of them, some of landscapes (one of their favourite tree), and then there’s her favourite piece. She removes it from the box and studies it for the millionth time, examining every detail, every stroke of the pencil that Clarke made. It’s the only drawing of her that Clarke has ever done.

She remembers this day like she does many of the days that they spent together. She remembers pretending to be annoyed, and remembers secretly watching Clarke when she’s too focused to notice. She remembers the sweet ice cream sandwich after it all, and of course she remembers the day Clarke gave her the drawing. It was her sixteenth birthday.

Lexa remembers Clarke like it was only yesterday that she last saw her and wonders where she is right now, what she’s doing. Too many times she’s wanted to contact her (she doesn’t have her number anymore), ask her how life is. But then she thinks that she’s lost the chance. It’s been a long time, she could even be married, she thinks; she doesn’t want it to be true.

She walks towards the window and looks outside. The sky is clear and she sees so many stars. Lexa remembers how this was one of their favourite activities. She doesn’t even notice a tear rolling down her cheek when she absentmindedly says aloud, “I miss you.”


End file.
